Kiddo.

Another word traveled through the mist and appeared by the still-hopping bird. It was accompanied by the humming, and Dick felt safe again. The word had chased the fat man away, and relief rushed through the boy's motionless body.

Please.

The word danced across his mind and disappeared into the darkness surrounding his brain. 'Kiddo' followed, and the humming stopped. Which meant the fat guy came back. Dick wanted to yell for help, but who would come to help him? Not the two people that were always just beyond his reach, and not the tall man with the steady, piercing gaze. Only the humming ever came to help him, and the periods of silence were longer than the humming.

Dick tried to ignore the fat man by staring at the imprinted words – Tony Zucco. The little bird, which Dick had decided was a robin, had begun hopping back and forth across the entirety of the two words. It left little prints in its wake, prints that disappeared as quickly as they appeared.

For some reason, the nine-year-old felt that those words were important, as was the fact that the robin was dancing on top of the letters. But he couldn't figure out why. It was like he was missing pieces of a puzzle, pieces that he could see floating on the edges of his mind. He couldn't get to them, and the fact that his muscles were still ignoring him was very frustrating.

Bruce had never seen the boy so still. Dick Grayson was active, and athletic, and a fireball of energy. The nine-year-old had come out of his shell, in the presence of Bruce and Alfred, and was always moving. But now he was just lying there, and the millionaire felt death hovering around the edges of the room.

Bruce had seen people die before. Not just his parents; Batman had failed to save several people over the years. And the moments before they took their last breath felt exactly like the moment he was in now. Shadows appearing as the blackness of death began to overpower the brightness of life. Quiet hitches in the person's breathing rhythm as their lungs began to give up. An irregular beat of the heart every once in a while as it attempted to compensate for the lungs.

"He's dying," the man whispered.

There was no counter to his comment, because the only other person in the room was the near-lifeless boy on the bed.

Bruce was sitting on the edge of the hard, plastic chair next to Dick's bed. He was hunched over, his forehead resting on his fisted hands that were clutching the heavy blanket covering the nine-year-old.

"Don't give up, kiddo. You've made it through worse than this. You stayed alive in the detention center when you should have died several times. Please just wake up. Just open your eyes, that's all you have to do right now. You don't have to talk, or eat, or even move. Just open your eyes and show me how strong you are. Please."

But Dick didn't move, and Bruce felt the darkness move closer.

"I've only known you for a few months, but you're more important to me than all of Gotham City. Be strong, don't give up, I…"

Bruce paused, choked back a sob, and sat up.

"I need you."

Don't give up.

Dick wondered what that meant as he gratefully listened to the soft humming. Or was it "give up don't"? Or "up don't give"? None of the combinations made sense, and the nine-year-old suddenly felt like an idiot. The three words wouldn't be prancing around if they didn't mean something, but Dick was too stupid to understand them. Another thing to join the cloud of frustrating things hovering over his mind.

He felt something warm land heavily on some part of his body. It turned into fire, and Dick flinched. The humming grew louder and it made the nine-year-old nervous. It had never done that before. Dick tried to turn around and run, but his muscles still refused to obey.

Bruce was not a touchy-feely man. The only thing he ever did was shake hands. He had never hugged Alfred, not even when he had been a grieving boy, and he had never been the one to initiate a hug given to Dick. But he was making an exception, because he was grasping at straws, because his boy was going to die and he was trying everything he could think of to get him back.

So, the millionaire carefully covered Dick's pale hand with his much bigger one. He slid his fingers underneath the slackened palm, and gently squeezed. At first he thought it was his imagination, tricking him into thinking that everything was going to be okay. But when he released and then squeezed again, he realized that it was not just his imagination. Because Dick flinched.

"Dick?" he asked quietly.

Nothing else happened, but Bruce wasn't about to give up.

"Dick, wake up!" he commanded loudly. "You flinched, I know you can hear me! Open your eyes and do it now!"

"Master Bruce!"

Alfred suddenly appeared beside the millionaire and placed a firm hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"Why on earth are you yelling at him, sir?" the butler indignantly asked quietly. "We are in a hospital!"

Then Dick moved his head.

"That's why!" Bruce answered, his voice not quite as loud. "I know he can hear me, so I'm telling him what he needs to do."

"Master Dick, please continue to wake up while I go get a nurse."

Alfred rushed out of the room as Bruce stood up. Reaching over the small body, Bruce grabbed the boy's other hand and squeezed. The action produced another flinch, this one not confined to just his hand. Dick's entire arm shuddered, and Bruce allowed a slight grin to flash across his face.

"Good, Dick, you're doing well. Now we know you can move your limbs, so now I just need you to open your eyes. You can do it, I believe in you. I thought you might not be strong enough, but I think you're stronger than this. You're stronger than a concussion, you've beaten it before, so just show me."

The heart monitor exploded in a frenzy as Dick's brain commanded him to open his eyes. His breathing quickened, causing another machine to burst to life. Loud beeps began echoing around the room, and suddenly a nurse was on the other side of the bed.

"What did you do, Mr. Wayne?" she demanded angrily.

"I…he's waking up!" Bruce exclaimed.

"If his body continues reacting like this, he's going to have a heart attack. Get out of here!" she yelled as she pulled a pager out of her pocket.

"Dr. Wu, please report to ICU immediately. Code White."

The automated voice blared through the speakers in the hallway, and Bruce covered his ears as he exited the room.

"I didn't…what happened?" Bruce asked in the general direction of Alfred.

"I do not have experience with comatose patients, sir, so I have no idea."

Dr. Wu suddenly raced past them and entered Dick's room. Three more people joined him from the other end of the hallway. The last person shut the door, forcing Bruce and Alfred to step back.

"Mr. Wayne, Mr. Pennyworth, you can wait in the chairs over there."

The nurse at the desk pointed to a row of chairs against the wall about ten yards away. Bruce felt like he had been sent to the principal's office as he obediently walked over and sat down.

"What's a code white?" he inquired.

Alfred shook his head, so Bruce stood up and returned to the nurse's desk.

"What's a code white?" he repeated.

"If you'll excuse me, Mr. Wayne, I'm very busy," she snapped.

Turning away from him, she picked up the phone and dialed a number. Bruce stood his ground, so the nurse sent him a glare as she began talking.

"This is Wendy at Gotham General. I need to speak to Pete, please."

Bruce furrowed his brow, then decided that there had to be more than one 'Pete' in Gotham City. It was ridiculous to assume that a nurse was calling the director of the Department of Child Services.

"Hi, Pete, it's Wendy. I have a case here, a code white when the guardian was alone in the room with the patient."

His eyes widened in shock as Bruce realized that the nurse was implying that he had done something to his ward. And he was absolutely certain that she was talking to Pete from DCS, because why else would she use the term 'guardian'?

"Grayson, Richard John. Guardian is Bruce Wayne. No, we don't, because it's illegal."

Bruce hated only being able to hear one end of any conversation, but especially this one. What couldn't the hospital do or have because it was illegal?

"You probably won't be surprised by this, but he's right here. Would you like to talk to him?"

The nurse held the phone up and said, "It's for you, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce carefully took the phone from her.

"Pete, this is Bruce Wayne."

"What did you do, Bruce?" Pete asked, his voice calm.

"Dick is in a coma, I took his hand, he flinched, so I thought he was waking up. I was just trying to help him wake up, I didn't…"

"Okay, but what did you do?"

"I raised my voice so he could hear me. I told him to open his eyes."

"Bruce, did the doctor tell you to attempt to wake Dick up?"

"No, but…"

"Did the doctor give you any instructions as to what you should do if Dick seemed like he was coming around?"

"He said to call the nurse," Bruce admitted.

"And did you?"

"I…no, I tried to wake him up. But Alfred went right away to get the nurse."

"Bruce, are you a doctor?"

"No," the millionaire nearly snapped.

"Do you think you know better than the doctor?"

"No, but…"

"Then why did you refuse to follow the doctor's direct instructions to you?"

"I didn't refuse!" Bruce exclaimed. "Alfred went to get the nurse, right away!"

"Was that before or after you 'raised' your voice?"

"After, but…"

"Bruce, you just sent your ward into the children's version of a code blue. Was Alfred in the room with you when Dick appeared to be starting to wake up?"

"No. Pete, what are you saying?"

"I'll be blunt, because you deserve to know what you've just gotten yourself into. Dick, your ward, was in a coma but alive. You, the guardian, were alone in the room with him. You 'raise your voice' and suddenly he's on the verge of a heart attack. I'm sorry, Bruce, but you are now under investigation."

"Investigation for what?!" Bruce demanded loudly.

"Endangering your ward, for starters."

"What?! Pete, you can't…this isn't…I was trying to help him!"

"We can talk about the situation in more detail when I come to your house tomorrow morning. If you want to continue to be Dick Grayson's guardian, I suggest you make yourself available for the entire day. As of this moment, you are no longer permitted to have any contact with the boy, pending the results of the investigation. Please give the phone back to Wendy, and I'll see you tomorrow."

Pete went silent, and Bruce slowly handed the phone back to the nurse. He turned around and walked back to where Alfred was still seated. Numbly, the millionaire sat down.

"What's wrong, sir?" the butler inquired, noticing the disbelief in the blue eyes.

"I'm under investigation, Alfred. DCS thinks I'm endangering my ward. All I did was try to wake him up!"

Alfred's eyes mirrored the emotion in those of his charge, and shock filled his body.

"They think I did something to him."

"I was right outside the door, Master Bruce. The curtain was open, you were sitting on a chair holding Master Dick's hand. The only mistake you made was raising your voice."

"Pete said I didn't follow the doctor's direct instructions."

"I followed them ten seconds after I heard you yell at Master Dick, sir. You will be exonerated, because you have done nothing wrong."

"Code white is the kids' version of code blue. I killed him."

"Master Bruce, you did not kill him…."

"I killed him."